Her gentle hands are always busy, whether they are cooking, cleaning, or sewing. They are hands of wisdom that give me courage. They speak in a way no one understands except her own children. These hands show meaning and creativity. They say, “I’m here to help!”

My mom has helped me since I was born, from changing my stinky diapers, to wiping away all my tears. She’s always there for me and I hope she never leaves.

These tools help her family and night and to prove it, her hands throb. They pump like a heartbeat. They try taking a break, but they never stop. It’s like they are a machine. They keep going until they wear out.


Most days my mom hits her hands on something causing them to be bruised and scratched. She also breaks some nails. The nail snaps and she pulls gently away, so she leaves no pain. Once in a while, my mom will coat her nails with clear polish so they are strong and shiny.

The five fingered object stays lingering in my mind. They brighten my day and give me something to look forward to. I want to try my best to make my hands exactly like hers.

Sometimes I think how children think of their parent’s hands. Some children even ask, “Mommy. Why are your hands so bruised and scratched?” The mother’s response would be, “Because I work so hard to take care of you.” Think about it. What story could your mother’s hand’s tell?